


The Death of Captain America

by marvelousfvcks



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 14:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15050903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelousfvcks/pseuds/marvelousfvcks
Summary: the death of Captain America may not be the tragedy you always thought it would be*written for @redgillan's 'Steve Rogers' 100th Birthday Celebration' on tumblr*Prompt: Rebirth





	The Death of Captain America

_Rebirth (noun):_  
_1\. a new or second birth_  
_2\. a renewed existence, activity, or growth; renaissance or revival_

* * *

 

You hated yourself for it; you really did.

But you could no longer deny the fact that the day Captain America died was the greatest day of your life.

The world - yourself included - owed Captain America a great debt, one that no matter what was given him would probably never be repaid; he had selflessly saved people time and time over, occasionally at the price of his own sacrifice. No matter the cost, Captain America was willing to lay it down on the line for the greater good. That was what heroes did and he was undeniably the greatest hero of them all.

And part of you loved him, part of you would always love him, but you would forever love Steven Grant Rogers more.

People often forgot that underneath the helmet and the stars and the stripes there was a man. A man who signed up to fight in one of the most horrendous battles the world had ever seen and hadn’t been allowed to stop fighting since.

Whilst Captain America served his country and the world and everyone in it, no one had noticed that Steve Rogers had been slowly slipping away until he was nothing more than a forgotten memory, the shadow that followed Captain America around but never was able to stand in the light.

Whilst Captain America lived, Steve Rogers could not.

And you were forced to watch; watch as the man you loved fell further and further away, afraid he would never return to you. Watch as the mantle of Captain America overtook every ounce of his being until you couldn’t even recognise those gorgeous blue eyes that you loved to gaze fondly into. Watch as Steve Rogers died before your eyes and you were unable to stop it from happening.

The worst thing about it? No one else seemed to notice; the world continued to call upon the Captain without sparing a thought for your Steve, the press and the paparazzi and the fans still called out his title with such glee not knowing that was all he was anymore, even his own teammates could no longer see, his name became ‘Cap’ and nothing more.

You had to mourn in solitude; there was no cold body to cry over or a grave to visit and decorate in his favourite flowers, not when he still came home to you and crawled in bed beside you every night. But the arms that wrapped around you were not Steve’s, they lacked his warmth, the lips that pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck lacked his never-ending affection. It was simply another routine that the Captain was used to and so you would shed a tear and snuggle in closer to your pillow as you begged for sleep to come for you.

For a while it seemed to you that Steve, _your_ Steve, was lost forever. You days seemed duller, the colour draining from your life as you existed without living, not knowing how to without him by your side. You were stuck in a limbo, grieving without being able to for a man that was physically alive but no longer with you.

And then the unthinkable happened.

The accords tore the avengers apart and the impossible happened before your eyes: The Rebirth of Steve Rogers. The moment he dropped that goddamn Shield that you had come to loathe, Captain America died and Steve – _your_ Steve – returned to you, the weight of the world and all its responsibilities falling from his shoulders with the clang of vibranium on the cold concrete floor. You watched in disbelief as Steve carried Bucky towards you, a myriad of emotions swimming in his eyes as he stopped in front of you and you could only provide him with a watery smile as helped him carry an injured Bucky towards the quinjet outside where T’Challa awaited you.

That night ended with you and Steve embraced together under the thick duvet in the shelter of one of your numerous safe-houses, his fingers gently tracing up and down the bare skin of your back as he peppered your face and neck with soft kisses, wiping away the traces of your tears with his lips as he whispered promises and murmured apologies to you that you _knew_ he meant. You could only cling to him; to Steve, _your Steve_ , as you basked in the knowledge that he was back, returned to you were he belonged, and Captain America couldn’t take him away from you anymore.

It was both a gentle and sudden progression; the Captain no longer remained within him but Steve took the time to get to know you again, his shy smiles and spontaneous dates reminding you of when you first starting courting. The familiarity mixed with the newness of it all made your head swim but none of it mattered to you, not when he had done the impossible in returning to you and you thought, wrongly so, that you would never have been able to love him more than you did when he came back to you.

But Steve Rogers had a way of surprising you, even after all this time.

Your life with Steve progressed; the domesticity of it something that you had long ago ceased to hope could happen, but here you were, two years after the death of Captain America, watching the man that you loved more than _nearly_ anything else in the world softly sing the lullaby his mother sang for him in her native tongue to your own child, your daughter looking ridiculously small in her father’s large arms, her eyes drooping shut as he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead before placing her back in her crib.

Steve looked up from his daughters sleeping form to see you standing in the doorway, neither of you caring about the ungodly hour your daughter had rose you from as you both shared in the unadulterated joy of what you had created together.

Silently, Steve crossed the room leading you back into your own bedroom, wrapping his arms around you from behind and inhaling your scent as you both swayed to the song only you could hear.

“Thank you,” Steve mumbled, face still buried in the crook of your neck, “For everything; for Sarah, for this life, for not giving up on me when I gave you every reason to. For still loving me even when I wasn’t even here.”

“It was all worth it. _You_ were worth it Steve.”

You turned in his arms, pressing your lips against his and pouring every ounce of love you had for this man into the kiss.

“Happy Birthday, my love.”


End file.
